


Zombie / what's in your head

by chaos_monkey



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)
Genre: (no Chaos Rising spoilers), Angst and Tragedy, Hurt No Comfort, Sad Ending, Suicide, Trauma, Whump, implied horror, non-graphic injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:40:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27229750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaos_monkey/pseuds/chaos_monkey
Summary: When Thrawn limped his way back to Ascendancy space— both literally and figuratively— he fully expected to find distrust and suspicion and staunch opposition to his return as a member of Chiss society. He expected a long fight with the Syndicure, with few, if any, to stand at his side.Banishment would have been far preferable to what he did find.
Relationships: Ar'alani & Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo, Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo & Eli Vanto, Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo/Eli Vanto
Comments: 22
Kudos: 31





	Zombie / what's in your head

**Author's Note:**

> I was minding my own business the other day when Zombie by the Cranberries came on and somehow got the seeds of this fic stuck in my head. It made me extremely sad, so of course I needed to share the hurt. ~~..Happy Halloween?~~  
>  (But seriously, please heed the tags)
> 
> Also, I've tagged it as both Thrawn/Eli and Thrawn & Eli because it's purposely ambiguous, and while I've used some minor worldbuilding details from the new Ascendancy novel, there's no actual story spoilers.

  
  


When Thrawn limped his way back to Ascendancy space— both literally and figuratively— he fully expected to find distrust and suspicion and staunch opposition to his return as a member of Chiss society. He expected a long fight with the Syndicure, with few, if any, to stand at his side. After all, he had been gone… a very long time. Much longer than anyone had intended, even before the incident that had seen him flung to the far reaches of uncharted space. And during that time, he had fought with and for the Empire. He had played a very, very dangerous game with the Emperor himself, and one which he was no longer certain he had not lost long ago. 

Banishment would have been far preferable to what he did find. 

The Ascendancy, broken and crushed. Countless Chiss dead or captured, the remnants of his people scattered and hunted to the very fringes of the Chaos. 

And Eli Vanto— 

  
  


screaming screaming voices they don't stop they never stop   
can't sleep _can't sleep_ don't sleep they're coming they're watching they're always watching   
they're screaming make it stop please _make it stop_ the howls the shrieking the _eyes_ _RUN_

  
  


“They came out of nowhere,” Ar’alani said as Thrawn followed her down the hospital corridor. Her voice was flat, bled dry of emotion. Her face was… not. “We had no warning, but we fought. And we died. You’ll be briefed in full, if you decide to come with us.” 

Thrawn kept pace, ignoring the dull, throbbing ache in his leg and back. “Come with you?” 

“We’re retreating, Thrawn,” Ar’alani said in that same flat, dead voice. “It’s only a matter of time before we’re found here, too. It has been decided that we will gather the last of our people and flee beyond the far reaches of the Chaos, in the hopes they either cannot follow or don’t care to bother.” 

Thrawn pulled up short, staring at her in consternation. “There is a reason no one travels beyond the edge.” 

“Yes,” Ar’alani agreed. “There is. Come with us or don’t, the choice is yours. I don’t imagine it will make much difference in our fate either way,” she added bitterly, the first emotion Thrawn had heard in her voice since arriving. 

_Die here, or die there._ Those couldn’t possibly be the only options left. 

“What of Imperial space? If this enemy attempts to follow us there, the Empire—” 

“Your precious Empire would make corpses or slaves of us all the moment we arrived in their territory and we are too weakened to stop them,” Ar’alani spat, turning on her heel and striding up the hallway. Thrawn had to hurry to keep up, wincing as the deep ache in his leg became a shooting pain instead. “And in any case, all travel core-ward has been blockaded. The net is still loose but it tightens day by day. One small ship like yours might make it through again. Return to the Empire if you like. You should never have come back here in the first place.” 

Ar’alani’s voice cracked and she fell silent. Thrawn had no answer to that, following her and ignoring the growing pain, the fire deep in his hip that spread up his spine the farther he walked. He could not rest, not until he had seen— 

“And what befell Commander Vanto?” Thrawn asked quietly. 

Ar’alani hesitated, and Thrawn saw her swallow before answering. “He was one of many captured in the first wave, when we still… thought we could win this. He was found months later by one of the Navigators, adrift in a half-gutted drone between eddies of Chaos and barely alive. We have no idea how he escaped. No others have, at least not that we know of.” 

Thrawn frowned. If Vanto had been brainwashed, if he was potentially some sort of sleeper agent… he would not be kept in an unguarded medical facility. “What do you mean, no idea? Do you suspect him of lying about the circumstances surrounding his escape?” 

Ar’alani stopped in front of a door. It looked like every other door lining the long corridor, save for the glowing red security lock on the control panel. She sighed, her expression softening into one of pity that was somehow more difficult to bear than the look of angry, hopeless despair she had worn up until now. 

“Thrawn—” 

Thrawn turned away, formless dread curling and swelling in the pit of his stomach. “Open the door.” 

“Thrawn, you don’t have to do this now. Let the doctors see to you first, and then you can—” She cut off when Thrawn only looked at her steadily; then silently entered a code. 

The door slid open with a soft hiss and Thrawn walked into Eli Vanto’s room. 

  
  


they're coming they're watching they're always watching they're screaming   
_make it stop_ please make it stop the howls the shrieking the _eyes_ _RUN  
_ screaming screaming voices they don't stop _they never stop_ can't sleep can't sleep _don't sleep_

  
  


“Physically, he’s uninjured,” Ar’alani said softly into the silence. Thrawn didn’t look at her. “But he hasn’t said a word since we found him.” 

“Nothing at all?” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Thrawn saw Ar’alani shiver. It was subtle, but it was there, and that alone sent a chill up his own spine. “When we brought him on board… He was unconscious, at first. I was there when they revived him. He said one word, ‘Run’. That was all. And then he just… started screaming. It took three of us to hold him down so the medic could sedate him.” 

“And after?” Thrawn asked quietly, watching Vanto. He appeared to be awake, his eyes open, his lips moving silently and the fingers of one hand twitching ceaselessly; but had given no sign he was even aware of the presence of others in the room. 

“He’s been as you see him, ever since regaining consciousness a second time. He doesn’t speak, he doesn’t move, he reacts to nothing. He seems to sleep when sedated and he breathes on his own. Nothing else.” 

“One of the skywalkers could—” 

“We have _tried that!”_ Ar’alani snapped, the sudden vehemence in her tone finally making Thrawn look up. “Do you really think we didn’t try _everything?_ Even now, there are some who hope that he will recover enough on his own to tell us what he saw or heard, where he was taken or how he escaped, _anything_ about these creatures wiping us from existence. But he has been _months_ without change. At the beginning, our only two remaining Navigators with Second Sight attempted to sense anything they could from his mind. Both still wake up screaming from night terrors every single night, yet cannot, or will not, explain what it is they dream of.” 

Thrawn’s chest constricted so tightly he could hardly breathe, let alone speak, his gaze falling once again on the small, frail form on the bed. Vanto hadn’t stirred, his painfully familiar brown eyes staring out from an unfamiliar gaunt face and flickering between things Thrawn couldn’t see. 

“I’m sorry, Thrawn,” Ar’alani said softly. “He’s gone.” 

And then she left. 

  
  


they're screaming make it stop _please_ make it stop the howls the shrieking the _eyes_ _RUN  
_screaming screaming voices they don't stop they never _stop_ can't sleep can't sleep don't _sleep_   
they're coming they're watching they're _always watching_

Fire, flames, screams of terror and panic; white-armoured figures striding through the billowing smoke and ash while mechanical monstrosities loom above, eyeless heads swivelling to rain down even more death and destruction. The scream of TIE fighters overhead briefly drowns out the screams of an infant, ripped from the arms of its sobbing parents before they, too, are cut down by bolts of red light. Their dead eyes follow him, accusing, before they dim and disappear, swallowed up by a creeping, noxious blackness, putrid and vile. It smothers everything, leaving only sickly yellow eyes watching him from the impenetrable darkness, cruel mocking laughter slithering into his ears and gathering _under his skin—_

Thrawn jerked awake with a cry and a jolt of terror so strong he was on his feet and ready to run before he remembered where he was. Trembling, he slowly sank back down into his chair with a shake of his head to try and dispel the lingering images of the dream. 

He pressed his palms to his temples, taking deep breaths to calm the frantic racing of his heart, and the lingering cold fear turned to creeping sorrow as the small form on the bed drew his eyes once more. Vanto was conscious again. The sedative must have worn off while Thrawn was asleep, though he hadn’t meant to doze off in his chair. He knew, deep down, that he ought to heed Ar’alani’s advice to leave and get some rest, have his own badly-healed injuries tended to as much as was still possible— but he also knew there was no point. The CDF’s remaining resources were already strained to breaking, and it would take time they didn’t have to even attempt to reverse the damage his own body had done while trying to keep him alive. 

And he couldn’t sleep. Every time he slept, the nightmares returned. 

He had lost track of how many days he’d been at Eli Vanto’s side. Certainly more than one; but less than five, he thought. It all blurred together, unchanging. The medics came in every now and then to administer a sedative and put Vanto back to ‘sleep’ or to run a quick test of his responses. 

There were none. 

Thrawn had tried as well, when they were alone. He had tried speaking in Cheunh, in Basic, in Sy Bisti; all to no avail. He had tried holding Vanto’s hand for hours on end, searching in vain for a pattern to the ceaseless movements of his fingers; had lowered his ear until Vanto’s lips brushed it in an attempt to make sense of the frantic, unending litany of unvoiced words. He had tried gentle, coaxing conversation and he had tried shouting; had even tried sternly worded commands, and had eventually devolved into semi-coherent, exhausted pleas for Vanto to come back to him. 

Nothing worked. Vanto hadn’t even so much as twitched when Thrawn had grabbed him by both shoulders and yanked his former commander upright to look him straight in the eyes, almost nose-to-nose. Vanto had simply… looked through him, as though he wasn’t even there, eyes blankly focused on something too distant to be real. 

Thrawn rose slowly to his feet and stood next to Vanto’s bed, gazing down at the shell that had once been a person. Exhausted sorrow, guilt and regret and years of unspoken words rose in his throat, choking him, his vision blurring as he gripped Vanto’s— Eli’s— hand one more time. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. Everything he had sacrificed, everything _Eli_ had sacrificed; all the atrocities Thrawn had witnessed and perpetrated and turned a blind eye to in service of the Empire, soothing his conscience with the knowledge that he was doing it for his people— it had all been for nothing. 

“I’m sorry, Eli,” Thrawn whispered brokenly. He bowed his head, squeezing Eli’s hand in his so tightly it had to hurt; hoping against hope that Eli would hear something, _feel_ something. “I am so sorry, my friend.” 

Eli didn’t move. 

  
  


screaming screaming voices they don't stop they never stop   
can't sleep _can't sleep_ don't sleep they're coming they're watching they're always watching   
they're screaming make it stop please _make it stop_ the howls the shrieking the _eyes_ _RUN_

  
  


It was an easy task to unhook the tubes and wires and scoop Eli’s still-breathing corpse up in his arms, after the medic had administered his next sedative. It was equally simple to carry him through the deserted corridors and up to the small hangar bay on the surface level without being seen. 

The wind howled and roared almost angrily outside the stolen speeder as Thrawn piloted them out into the vast emptiness of the small, ice-bound planet, the wind-whipped snow almost immediately obscuring the viewscreen and interfering with the navigational sensors. He ignored them. Eventually bringing the speeder to a halt, he glanced over at Eli and paused, just watching him for a long, long moment. Eli’s face was still gaunt, haunted and hollow; but with his eyes closed and the muted light in the cockpit, he almost looked himself again, his chest rising and falling gently as though he was simply sleeping. 

He looked… peaceful. 

A powerful gust of freezing wind almost blew Thrawn off his feet as soon as he climbed out into the raging storm, his back screaming in pain and his leg nearly buckling beneath him. Holding on to the speeder, his hands already going numb in the bitter cold, he stumbled around to the other side and easily hoisted Eli’s limp body into his arms again. Hooking one hand under Eli’s knees and gently cradling Eli’s head to his shoulder with the other, Thrawn pressed his lips to Eli’s forehead. His murmured words were immediately swallowed up by the uncaring elements, as soundless as Eli’s had been— but there was no one to hear them anyway. 

And then, his tears freezing and crystallizing on his cheeks before they could fall, Thrawn limped out into that endless nothing without looking back. 


End file.
